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The Calling of a Boy unaware

How I was transformed by discipleship at Brigade Camp

Friday evening was here and my week at camp was over. As I sat on the grass by the tetherball pole, I looked out over the valley and sobbed. I didn’t know why. Sure it had been a fun week, but at fourteen years old I had a lot of other things I wanted to do before the summer was over. My friends were waiting back home, the county fair was coming up, and of course my TV and video games had been neglected while I was away.  Despite all this, there I was sobbing because I didn’t want to leave. It would take me several years before I could understand what transpired inside me that Friday evening.

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